


Vanity

by traptrixnepenthes



Category: Future Card Buddyfight
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-25
Updated: 2019-09-25
Packaged: 2020-10-28 08:30:39
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 847
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20775581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/traptrixnepenthes/pseuds/traptrixnepenthes
Summary: i don't have anything to say about this . i wrote this in the middle of the night a week and a half ago because i was feeling the vintage kyotas vibes, i guess





	Vanity

He knew by now that it was just how Kyoya looked at people, but it still made Tasuku uncomfortable, somehow, to be stared at as if he were a piece of art being appraised. Was there enough value in the shape of his jaw? The color of his eyes? Which weighed heavier on the scales, his talent, or the way his hair framed his face?

Normally it didn't get to him, but Kyoya was very close now, and Tasuku couldn't move. He could've if he wanted to, but his heart was pounding wildly in his chest and it told him he'd regret it if he tried--so he sat as still as he could under Kyoya's gaze, not quite able to meet his gaze. But of course, it'd be better to keep his eyes shut tight right now, anyways.

Kyoya smoothed a layer of primer over Tasuku's cheeks, his hands warm compared to the cold product, and Tasuku tried not to jerk away as Kyoya's fingers worked against his face. Having his face touched like this was an alien experience--even when he'd been younger and asked Stella to teach him about makeup so he could be more like her, her fingers hadn't been so...delicate, that's the word he was looking for. But Kyoya's hands soon pulled away, to be replaced by a foundation brush, and perhaps that metaphor about Kyoya seeing him as a piece of art wasn't too far off.

With brush in hand, Kyoya would paint over someone else's art to create a masterpiece.

Next were Tasuku's eyes--the eyeliner pencil pressed against his eyelid, and he held as still as he could so that Kyoya's hand wouldn't make a mistake. Where Tasuku's nerves were leaving him fidgeting restlessly with his hands, Kyoya's were perfectly calm and stable, like they always were. Like he always was.

Mascara was next, and Tasuku hoped it wouldn't make it more difficult if he kept his eyes closed. But Kyoya didn't say otherwise, so his eyes stayed shut; he didn't want to watch Kyoya's interested, appraising look from this close up when he could already feel it as clearly as the makeup on his skin. Another brush fluttered across his cheeks--blush going over where his cheekbones were.

"Open your eyes," Kyoya said, and Tasuku hesitated for only a moment before complying. There was no mirror in front of him, which made him a bit less anxious. There was only Kyoya's face and his soft, meaningless smile. "There's one last thing before we're done, but I need you to pick it out."

He rummaged through a makeup bag for a few moments, and with Kyoya's eyes finally not on him Tasuku took a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He didn't know why this was so nervewracking--he'd had makeup applied before, for things like television appearances and formal dinners, but even though the motions Kyoya was going through were the same as the more professional makeup artists, there was still something clearly different. Was it just in how Kyoya looked at him? Or was it simply in how their relationship had changed from police officer and rich criminal to...whatever this was. A relationship where Kyoya could ask Tasuku to do anything, and he would always say yes.

Kyoya pulled three tubes of lipstick out of the bag--none were from the same brand, but to Tasuku's untrained eyes, they all looked the exact same color. "Pick one."

Again, Tasuku hesitated, uncertainty still swirling in his mind, before he picked up the one in the middle. Kyoya's smile widened, but Tasuku couldn't read what emotion was behind it. "Good choice," he said, and Tasuku wished he understood the meaning of any of this. The meaning of the choice, of Kyoya's smile, of why Kyoya was applying his makeup in the first place. "That one's my favorite."

He dropped the others back into the bag and plucked the lipstick from Tasuku's fingers, uncapping it. It was a perfect rose red.

Kyoya cupped Tasuku's cheek with one hand and with the other he carefully, methodically applied the lipstick--his _favorite_, he'd said--to Tasuku's lips. His eyes were the same rose red as the lipstick and focused singlemindedly on Tasuku's face, all his attention on one point, as if not even seeing the person underneath it. Tasuku couldn't move, couldn't even close his eyes, but he wouldn't have, even if he could.

After what felt like an eternity, Kyoya sat back and nodded, looking pleased with himself. He recapped the lipstick and dropped it carelessly back into the makeup bag, and then pulled out a hand mirror, just big enough that Tasuku could see his whole face.

Despite all the makeup Kyoya had applied, he didn't really look that different. More just that details about his face had been highlighted. The shape of his eyes, bridge of his nose, the curve of his lips. His rose red lips, Kyoya's favorite color. He still looked like himself, yes, but more importantly, he looked how Kyoya wanted him to.


End file.
